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seen her standing there. She could not remember what he had
said. There had been so little time, before it happened. But
she could remember his face. She had screamed at him, and
his eyes had suddenly popped out and he had opened his
mouth like a man trying to call out, but he hadn't made a
sound. She had screamed at him: "No, I'm not yours! I
don't belong to you! Or to anybody!"

When she repeated those words now, in a whisper, the tears
rose in her dry, starting eyes. Then, slowly, while her strong
fingers twisted the cloth of his coat sleeve, she said: "I said
that to him. I said that. Oh, Perse, that's the way I am
inside." Then: " Oh, Perse, you see how I am."

He tried to put his hands on her, but she withdrew from

That night, sitting in his room at the hotel, under the
single, hanging, unshaded electric bulb that lighted indiffer-
ently the worn carpet at his feet, the dresser with its cold-
looking mirror, and the bed, Mr. Munn wrote a letter to May.
He was sure, he wrote, that she would agree with him that a
divorce was the best thing for them under the existing con-